Inspirational Cripples
by moms5thchild
Summary: Jim Dunbar is venting with Dr. Galloway.


I was checking my video collection and trying to decide where to put my copy of 'Warm Springs' when this phrase popped into my head. I seem to have a few films that fit this catagory and wondered what Jim would think of these movies. After 'Pride of the Yankeess' he probably would have little use for them... so how would he manage to avoid being one of them.

**Inspirational Cripples**

"Right now I am struggling with the phrase 'reasonable accommodation'. I've been wearing the tips of my fingers raw trying to learn damn grade 2 Braille and studying police procedure to take the damn Sergeants exam. Now the department is throwing up every petty, shitty road block they can think of in my way. I know they're afraid that I might pass the exam. Hell, they know I will pass the exam… and then what. What to do with Detective Sergeant James Dunbar when they barely know what to do with Police Detective James Dunbar. So they are saying that changing the way they administer the exam is impossible and I am saying they MUST make reasonable accommodation for my 'handicap'. God, that word still galls me, but not as much as the department's attitude towards it."

"That's quite a rant, Jim," Dr. Galloway said as he watched Dunbar spew his frustrations out. It had been months since he had seen Jim Dunbar, which was when he suggested Naomi Fine as a couples counselor for him and his wife, Christie. "What happened next?"

"So, now they have to figure out how to get around the problem of me taking the exam?" Jim was back in full rant mode again. "Get the damn tests translated into Braille; well not unless the department can supervise and understand the whole process and be sure there is no one slipping me answers." He barely paused for a breath, "get someone to read me the questions? That is a maybe if the department can pick the reader. Now, there is the problem of how fast to read, what inflections are used and how many times a question can be repeated? Christ, can they possibly make this more complicated? I can't even suggest a reader. Walter Clark, Andy Sipowicz, any of my squad mates, dozens of fellow officers or even my wife would be happy to do it, but they are too close to be allowed the task." His hands were wind milling as he punctuated his words with them, then Jim threw them down hard on the arms of the chair. "Okay, I say, how about I use that expensive equipment that the NYPD paid for and let my computerized reader do the work it was meant to do. Then department tells me no computer. I'll have to do the exam on an old electric typewriter and be in a separate room so the noise doesn't bother the other applicant's." Jim sighed and sagged into the chair. "That was when Christie and I went over the Lighthouse and vented to the councilors there. We didn't think it would do any good, except allow us to blow off steam."

Galloway chuckled at this. In his mind's eye he could see Christie Dunbar draw herself up and put on the most aggrieved and disgusted face imaginable and spit out invective with the best of them. When those two were working in tandem, the Dunbars were a force to be reckoned with.

"So, Christie is on side with you when it some to taking the exam?" Galloway asked and nodded as a huge smile broke out over Jim's face.

"Yeah, Christie; my beautiful, smart, in the publishing industry Christie; came up with a truly wonderful idea. I tell the department I was thinking of writing my memoirs. The powers that be hiccupped. The public relations office has been trying to get me to do interviews for Newsday, the Times; hell, even the Village Voice but I always refused."

"What's so wrong with letting the world know what you've accomplished?"

"I didn't want to be one of those inspirational cripples that grade school kids have to write about in book reports. I definitely am not in the league with Helen Keller or Louis Braille." Then a wicked smirk flitted across Jim's face. "If I wrote a book it would sit closer to Franklin Roosevelt; because it would be a bit political. A basic primer on how to fight city hall… and win. Suddenly the test was being translated into Braille by Lighthouse for the Blind and Lighthouse would be more than happy to supply a reader if something extra came up in the meantime. Score two points for Jimmy."

"So, good for you, you got what you wanted, so why are you here? You're always welcome here, but you seem to have everything under control."

"I thought I did, that was when Christie surprised me. She had been talking to her colleagues at the magazine and they had been talking and before you knew it someone was offering me an advance to write my memoirs. Damn, I not dead yet; not even retired and there are a hell of a lot of things I intend to do before I write the story of my life. Still, it is a laugh when you think about it. The only thing I ever did that was note worthy was stop a bullet with my head; not an accomplishment in anybody's books. Still, maybe I'll restart that journal the therapists in rehab made me write and then, when I make Chief, I'll have something to send to the publishers. Why not, I might actually inspire more than groans and exasperated sighs from Marty Russo by then. That's when it hits me, just where am I going now? When I write the sergeants exam I will be putting myself into a new level in the department. I would automatically be in a leadership role and I don't know if Hank can take any extra passengers." Jim went silent, chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. "I guess I'm here because I need to see where I'm going to be in five years, ten years… Hell, the rest of my life and there is nobody I feel as comfortable with talking about as you. I gotta tell you, this ain't all that comfortable either."

Galloway paused and looked at his patient. "Jim, I'll take that as a compliment. I know you have difficulty opening up to anyone. You and Christie are making progress, I hope."

"Yeah, but she isn't a cop."

"Neither am I."

"But you know cops, you… know me. So, that's it, what do you think?"

"When do you take the exam, Jim," Dr. Galloway said as he rose to check his schedule.

"In April, if I do."

"I can fit you in comfortably next Friday. After that we'll see what comes next. In the meantime, I have a suggestion for you and I want you to take it seriously. I want you to sit down with Christie and write for ten, fifteen minutes without thinking or stopping and the topic will be "image where I'll be in five years." Then share your writings you're your wife because you want to be with Christie then; don't you?"

Jim swung his head sharply towards Galloway, "I can't imagine my life without her."

"Well, I wonder how she would be as the wife of the chief of police?"

"Probably better than anyone could imagine," Jim rose and grabbed his seeing eye dog's harness. "So I better start the process. See you on Friday."

"At five o'clock, and remember that you can be inspirational if you want to."

"Yeah, I can hear Marty groaning from here."

fin


End file.
